more furious, extending to the place where I stood, at the Howard
House. Within an hour an ambulance came in (attended by Colonels
Clark and Strong, and Captains Steele and Gile), bearing
McPherson's body. I had it carried inside of the Howard House, and
laid on a door wrenched from its hinges. Dr. Hewitt, of the army,
was there, and I asked him to examine the wound. He opened the
coat and shirt, saw where the ball had entered and where it came
out, or rather lodged under the skin, and he reported that
McPherson must have died in a few seconds after being hit; that the
ball had ranged upward across his body, and passed near the heart.
He was dressed just as he left me, with gauntlets and boots on, but
his pocket-book was gone. On further inquiry I learned that his
body must have been in possession of the enemy some minutes, during
which time it was rifled of the pocket-book, and I was much
concerned lest the letter I had written him that morning should
have fallen into the hands of some one who could read and
understand its meaning. Fortunately the spot in the woods where
McPherson was shot was regained by our troops in a few minutes, and
the pocket-book found in the haversack of a prisoner of war
captured at the time, and it and its contents were secured by one
of McPherson's staff.

While we were examining the body inside the house, the battle was
progressing outside, and many shots struck the building, which I
feared would take fire; so I ordered Captains Steele and Gile to
carry the body to Marietta. They reached that place the same
night, and, on application, I ordered his personal staff to go on
and escort the body to his home, in Clyde, Ohio, where it was
received with great honor, and it is now buried in a small
cemetery, close by his mother's house, which cemetery is composed